What if I tell you that in the next 20-odd minutes, the film brushes past three years of the duo’s life in Kodambakkam? Yes, by the time Venu becomes a director and the song ‘Nyabagam’ is out, it is the May or June of 1980. In a passing acknowledgement to the maestro, you see that Venu’s film Endrendrum Arasan and music composer Indhra Dhanush’s name written right next to the 1980s Tami film Thai Pongal, which has music by Ilaiyaraaja.
Murali, ‘Champakulam Thachan’ and the Freewheeling Rebel
This is the sort of character reference that makes more sense and rounds off the familiarity of a particular character mold, only when the filmmaker opens up about his influences. Vineeth has been vocal about his inspiration for the peculiarly free flowing character design for Murali, played by Pranav Mohanlal. There is a particular archetype of actor Murali’s screen roles (coincidentally also contributing to the character’s name in the film) from the late 80’s and early 90’s that has come to define an idiosyncratic rebel in Malayalam cinema.
There is this recurring image of the kurta-clad, lean, chain-smoking rebel that passes through people’s lives as a feather blowing unscathed through air. You can have numerous references in Murali’s filmography, affected with his peculiar cadence and stiff body movements, moving about reciting obscure poems and getting lost in the grip of alcohol. Pranav Mohanlal gets to play the mysteriously opaque artist, whose bottled up talent is repeatedly turned down by a crippling sense of insecurity and self doubt. The actor’s striking physical similarities to Murali’s bygone characters, especially the drunkard father trying to reunite with his teenage daughter in Kamal’s Champakulam Thachan (1992), coincidentally also penned by Vineeth’s legendary father Sreenivasan lends more credibility to the character. On the surface, the parallels are minimal but the soul of Murali’s rebellious streak and irreverent ways channel nicely in Pranav’s free-wheeling artist who functions in his own accord.
